


The High

by Thranduil_is_a_bitchking



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: All the elves are on drugs, But it gets better I swear, M/M, Party at Mirkwood, Recreational Drug Use, like all of them - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-04-19 06:19:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4735649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thranduil_is_a_bitchking/pseuds/Thranduil_is_a_bitchking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mirkwood is the party kingdom, and Thranduil the party king. Bard is extended an invite to the party as Thranduil's lover, as well as his children, but Bard soon discovers that there's a lot about Thranduil he didn't know, in fact, there's a lot about Mirkwood he didn't know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flying High

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Lord_Eclipse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lord_Eclipse/gifts).



> Hey everyone! 
> 
> New story! It doesn't mean that I'm completely ignoring the other ones, but I felt like posting this one... Let me know what you guys think! :)
> 
> The first chapter's not very long, it's extremely experimental, and I don't really know where this is going... 
> 
> Enjoy!

Bard guided his barge through the darkening waters with ease, his children excitedly chatting from their position huddled on the deck. Thranduil had invited them to the Midsummer's celebration he held every year, and Bard had to admit, he was beginning to feel nervous as they approached. He had never really been into Mirkwood before, he was a bargeman, and so he had never really had any reason to enter the forest fully before now. Thranduil had either visited him on his barge or at his home in Laketown, discreetly of course. The Master hated Bard enough as it was, he didn't need Thranduil to make things worse, however unintentional. 

"Are we almost there Da?" Tilda asked, peeking wide eyed over the edge of the boat to stare at the trees that were beginning to envelope them. They would stay in Mirkwood for the festivities, which had begun two weeks prior to their visit and would most likely end in around a weeks time, and they would stay with Thranduil then as long as they pleased afterwards.

"Aye, we are, so you'd best be on your best behaviour, okay?" He replied, aiming the comment to all three of his children. They loved Thranduil almost as much as they loved him, if not more in Tilda's case. It warmed Bard to his core to know that his children accepted Thranduil, he didn't think he could survive without the blond elf.

As they drew nearer to the shore, Bard saw a familiar face waiting for them. It was Tauriel. Her long, fiery hair was braided finely and she wore a emerald green gown that was extremely tight fitting and left little to the imagination, silver, shimmering paint covering her body in floral patterns. Bard felt significantly underdressed. Or overdressed, he supposed, considering how little Tauriel was really wearing. 

"You look delightful." He said, the only thing he really could say without offending her. She smiled at him almost giddily, saying something he didn't quite catch before gesturing for him to follow her. They all did, admiring the trees that must have been thousands of years, if not millennia, old.

The sound of music and laughter drifted towards them, and as they approached a beautiful clearing, adorned with flowers and decorations of all shapes and sizes, the warmth of the bonfire that crackled merrily away in the centre reached them. Tilda clung excitedly to Sigrid, desperate to run forwards, but remembering her manners. 

In the back, slouched regally in a chair, was Thranduil, and Bard's breath caught in his throat. It had been little over a month since he'd seen Thranduil in person, and the elf looked even more beautiful now than he had before. Tauriel led them up to him, speaking rapidly in elvish to Legolas, who had moved to join them. Thranduil's features lit up when he saw Bard and he stood, a slightly glassy look in his beautiful eyes. He enveloped Bard in a bone crushing hug before leaning down to claim the man's lips with his own. Their kiss was quick, but a far cry from chaste, and Thranduil pulled back to smile down at Tilda, producing a flower crown out of seemingly thin air and placing it on her head. It seemed that Legolas had them, and Thranduil took another from his son's hands and placed it on Sigrid's head with a smile. Tauriel painted the girls in silver flowers, much like her own, as Legolas drew patterns in a reddish-brown paint on Bain's hands and forearms. 

"There, now you're all ready to party." Thranduil smiled, guiding them over to a group of elves of a similar age equivalent. Tilda found herself becoming fast friends with almost every elfling in the area, while Bain was slightly hesitant at first. He soon joined in with the dancing, Sigrid joining him. 

"You're too good to them." Bard said lightly, eyes taking his lover in with slight concern. Thranduil wasn't drunk, he'd seen Thranduil in almost every stage of drunkeness, and none of them made him as he was now. The elf's face was slightly flushed, his pupils dilated despite the light coming from the fire. He seemed to be in a good mood, which was almost unusual for him, and had a certain energy to him that made him rock forwards onto the balls of his feet before he grabbed Bard's hand and pulled him down the steps to join the others in their merrymaking.

Bard almost forgot about his concern as they danced, Thranduil's lips warm against his own when they would kiss. They danced for what felt like hours, Thranduil occasionally stopping to drink more water than Bard had ever seen anyone drink in such a small space of time. It seemed, though, as if the other elves were doing the same, if they could still stand, so Bard supposed it was an elf thing. When Thranduil had disappeared somewhere, Bard sat himself down on a step and observed the party. The women were wearing as little, or even less, than Tauriel was, all of them painted with different shimmering flowers. The men were mostly only wearing tight shorts or leggings, as Thranduil and Legolas were, their bodies painted in the same maroon paint that Bain had. After awhile, Tauriel joined him on the step he was sat on, her emerald eyes impossibly brighter. 

"Are you having a good time?" She asked, sniffing as she wiped at her nose. 

Bard nodded. "Yeah, I am. Thanks."

"Good, good! I'm really glad you're enjoying yourself, because some people don't." Tauriel rambled, nodding as she smiled giddily. "I mean, they do, but they don't, like, they don't enjoy themselves like we enjoy ourselves. Do you know what mean?"

"Uh..." Bard began, slightly lost. She was speaking too fast for him to catch most of what she was saying, but thankfully, Thranduil chose that moment to reappear. Tauriel jumped to her feet with a squeal, wrapping her arms around his neck and laughing as he spun her. He set her down with a fond smile, tapping the side of her nose gently before wiping something off. She gave him a grateful look before she kissed him on the cheek and skipped away to join Legolas, leaving Bard utterly confused.

"Is...um...is she alright?" He asked, moving to stand himself. Thranduil smiled at him, taking a drink out of a glass Bard was surprised to note was filled with water. At his questioning glance Thranduil only shrugged with a soft laugh, finishing the glass as quickly as he had the ones before it.

"Can't drink wine." He chuckled, pressing two fingers to his wrist before shrugging to himself. Bard categorised the behaviour as odd, in fact, he had categorised a lot of people's behaviour as odd.

He would soon find out why.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big apologies, I'd actually finished writing it, then forgot about it. But it's done, so I'll put it up two chapters at a time now :)
> 
> Enjoy!

Bard was dragged into the realm of the living by a loud groan, Thranduil throwing an arm over his eyes as he snuggled closer, a halfhearted attempt to keep the light out of his eyes.

"Thran, come on, it's not that bad." Bard chuckled, affectionately ruffling Thranduil's hair. The blond cracked a bloodshot eye open, weakly glaring at him. 

"I hate you." He mumbled, whining when Bard moved and stood. 

"It's well past midday Thranduil." 

"I don't care, it's too early." Thranduil groaned, burying his head further into the pillows. Bard took pity on the elf, who was a nightmare to get up at the best of times, and knelt on the bed, kissing Thranduil on the mouth with the unspoken promise of more later passing between them. 

"Bribery will get you everywhere." Thranduil concluded, standing hesitantly. His high from the night before had come crashing down around him, and he was sure he had the mother of all headaches. Bard, unaware of Thranduil's troubles, quickly and loudly dressed, humming to himself as he did. Thranduil, for his part, downed a glass of water quickly, stretching until his spine popped, each vertebrae sliding back into place. They were to spend the day with the children, and the evening partying much as they had the night before. Any and all work stopped for midsummer, and most were glad for the time off. 

"Thran," Bard began, suddenly in front of Thranduil, "are your hands shaking?" 

"Too much wine." Thranduil shrugged non-committedly, swinging both feet over the side of the bed and standing, swaying slightly before shaking himself and running his hands through his hair. Once he had finally motivated himself enough to dress, Bard set off to find his children, Thranduil disappearing for awhile to check on his son and Tauriel. He returned, his children in tow, looking slightly more put together than he had awhile back. 

Each day went the same, they would wake late, Thranduil would always be hungover and Bard would always have fun teasing him. The blond would be surprisingly catty when he woke, always looking worse for wear as he snapped something hurtful at him. He would always be fine though, after an hour or so, and would often disappear durning the day, eyes bright with energy when he returned. Legolas looked morose in the mornings too, though, so Bard put Thranduil's pre-afternoon bitchiness down to a family trait. Even Tauriel, with all her mood swings, was prone to offend in the early hours before midday. 

They would all spend the day with the kids and they would all party in the evening. It was all good fun, and it was all going remarkably well, until it decidedly wasn't. 

It was on the fifth night that Bard discovered why everyone's behaviour was so irregular. 

Children were apparently not allowed to attend the fifth night through to the seventh night, and Bard knew why. On these nights, you couldn't call the dancing dancing. It was more like clothed intercourse. If anyone in Laketown were ever even rumoured to be doing such things, he was sure the Master would have them drowned on sight. 

Most people were drunk, so intoxicated they probably weren't even half aware of what they were doing. Bard had had a sneaking suspicion that more than alcohol was being passed around, and he was right. He wished he wasn't.

He'd arrived a bit late, wanting to make sure that his children were okay and occupied. Thranduil had offered to stay, but Bard had said that a king couldn't be late to his own party, and with much persuasion and promising, Thranduil had gone. Bard had arrived at the clearing, and Thranduil had greeted him with a kiss, a slight shake to his normally steady hands. Bard could tell be his demeanour that Thranduil was desperate for something, what it was, Bard didn't know. The blond was quick to excuse himself, and Bard went to follow him, but Tauriel stopped him. 

"Bard, I was wondering if I could dance with you." She smiled, her mood much more mellow than he'd seen her at this hour. As she led him down to where the others were dancing, he saw a couple of elves laughing as they took a tablet each from a bag and swallowing it. Doubt was beginning to creep into his mind, but Tauriel, once again, managed to distract him with questions about his children and his home. By the time he'd answered all her questions, Thranduil had returned, looking much more at ease than he had before hand. 

"If I may?" He smiled, pulling Bard in for a kiss once Tauriel had moved. Bard quickly learned that dancing half naked with Thranduil wasn't as bad as he'd initially thought it would be. Their dance was beautifully intimate, and Bard felt his love for Thranduil increase with every step.

That love was put to the test not hours later.

Bard, once again, couldn't find Thranduil. It was becoming a regular occurrence, and he was torn between worry and suspicion. He'd seen Tauriel and Legolas snort an unhealthy amount of white powder off of the back of their hands in a quiet corner, and while Tauriel's hyperactivity finally had an explanation, he remembered Thranduil's earlier lapse in energy and hoped beyond all hope that his lover wasn't caught in the same snare his kingdom seemed to be in. His search for Thranduil was cut short an hour later, however, when he found Tauriel on the floor, seemingly caught between violently throwing up and choking on her own vomit. Legolas was nowhere to be seen, so he went over to help her and carried her back to her room once she'd passed out.

Thranduil, meanwhile, was draped over the armchair in Galion's rooms, Feren on the floor in front of him and Galion on the loveseat. Thranduil felt bad for leaving Bard at the party by himself, but he trusted Tauriel to keep him occupied before she crashed and probably made a general fool of herself, not that the rest of his people would be fairing any better at this point.

Hands shaking terribly, he tightened the strap around his arm with his teeth, taking the vial of liquid from Galion and filling his syringe, hardly caring about the obvious track marks on his arms as he pushed the needle through his skin and emptied the contents of the vial into his vein. Feren was already on the floor, mumbling something incomprehensible to himself as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Galion, however, had gone without for almost three days and had been attempting to state his need with other things, but the force in which the drug hit him made him moan, his ears ringing. But, Thranduil had taken some the day before, and for many days before that, and the amount he needed to take to get him seriously high was not the amount he had taken. Frustrated, he stood, pulling the needle out of his arm as his vision swam. Stumbling forwards, he almost tripped over Feren who had passed out, ignoring Galion's slurred attempt at saying his name.

Somehow, he made it to the door, grateful that Galion's room was a short walk down the corridor to his own. Using the wall for support, he managed to open the door to his room and find another vial without falling over. Successfully refilling his syringe and injecting himself, he didn't even have enough time to remove the needle before his body had firmly decided that he'd made a very, very bad decision. 

His knees buckled and he was unconscious before he hit the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

Bard stayed with Tauriel all night and well into the next morning. She'd woken by mid afternoon, and the first thing she did was throw up. Bard handed her a glass of water, and she smiled at him, although she was sure it came out as more of a grimace. Her thoughts, though, were filled with getting her next fix, so after Legolas had arrived, looking remarkably composed, Tauriel accepted the offered bag off of her foster brother when Bard left her in his care, intent on finding Thranduil. 

He didn't have to look for long. His lover was knelt on the floor of Galion's rooms, an unconscious Feren next to him. Bard, who had seen them through the open door, quickly asked if there was anything he could do to help.

"No, he'll be alright in a couple of hours." Thranduil smiled, having to force himself to stand up. It hadn't been long since he'd woken himself, and his body felt very abused. It might have had something to do with the admittedly large dose of heroin he'd taken and the night he'd spent in an awkward position on the cold floor. After promptly expelling the contents of his stomach, along with some blood that he chose to ignore, he'd gone to find Galion and Feren. 

"What, uh, what's wrong with him?" Bard asked, not sure if he wanted to know. Thranduil laughed, coughing slightly as he nudged his friend with his toe. 

"He was a bit heavy handed with his dosage, if you catch my meaning."

Bard nodded, eyebrow's furrowed in concern. "Are you sure he'll be okay?" 

Thranduil opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by Galion, who wandered into the room with a dopey smile on his face. Bard could see Thranduil mentally prepare himself, and couldn't help the small smile that he offered the blond.

"Thranduil, Thraaaaaaaanduil!" The butler sang, tilting dangerously to the left before stumbling and righting himself. "I love you, I love you so much."

"That's wonderful." Thranduil deadpanned, catching his friend as he stumbled backwards a couple of paces before falling forwards after tripping spectacularly over Feren as he tried to correct himself, not that either of them seemed to notice.

"Don't kiss me." Thranduil sighed as Galion leant up, intent clear on his face. 

"Don't you love me?" Galion sniffled, suddenly on the verge of tears. Thranduil could fast feel a headache coming on. 

"You don't! You don't love me!" He sobbed, clutching the blond like his life depended on it. Thranduil shot Bard an unamused look, which only made the man laugh harder. 

"Come on Galion, why don't you go to bed." Thranduil suggested, shepherding his friend towards the bed. Galion shook his head, resolutely digging his heels into the floor. But Thranduil was having none of it, and he scooped Galion up and into his arms, stepping over Feren and throwing his friend down onto the bed. "Sleep.

"I don't want to sleep." Galion protested, but Thranduil could tell that the effects of whatever drug he'd taken were beginning to wear off, and that he'd probably need to sleep it off anyways. It wasn't long before Galion was asleep, either that or unconscious, and Thranduil heaved out a sigh, standing straighter as Bard deposited Feren on the bed with a lot more care than Thranduil had given Galion. They moved towards eachother almost unconsciously, and Thranduil could tell that Feren was beginning to come around. 

"Let's leave them be." He suggested tiredly, leaning into Bard's touch as the brunet placed a hand on his shoulder before drawing him in for a hug once they'd exited and closed the door behind them. 

Bard stayed until the end of the festival, but work drew him back to Laketown. He'd said his goodbyes to Thranduil, hugged him and kissed him all through the night. The children hugged their Ada goodbye, and then they left.

Bard had made the decision never to talk to his kids about what he'd seen Legolas and Tauriel do. He couldn't forget, and he could never quite look them in the eye afterwards. Regardless, a cold, hard winter awaited them upon their return. The summer wouldn't last long. 

It never did.


End file.
